


I Know of Five Encounters

by Travellingthestars



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-03-26
Packaged: 2017-12-06 14:29:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/736710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Travellingthestars/pseuds/Travellingthestars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The black dog comes to call...</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Know of Five Encounters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Siuan](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Siuan).



> My beautiful beta's had a miserable few weeks- and I didn't know until today how bad it's been for her, so I whipped this up in a vague attempt to cheer her up. It will always get better, little bird, I promise. I'm sorry this is smut free, Siuan, my dear, to my credit I wrote it in under an hour and was aiming for fluff. Should you require it, birdie, I'll make an addition of smutty goodness! 
> 
> As to the rest of you, I really hope you enjoy, and if you can spare a moment send a feel-better-soon message to my little bird at: the-girl-with-the-owlhat.tumblr.com  
> Obviously, this is unbeta'd, so any mistakes or wtf-ery are entirely my fault.

John’s **first encounter** with the black dog was three weeks into his residence at Baker Street.  He tucked Sherlock into a blanket, spoon fed him soup and tea and biscuits, and played classical music constantly. He knew Sherlock had recovered after three days when he complained that the second violin in Brahms second symphony went out of tune four bars in. John couldn’t hear the difference, but he agreed and called Sherlock brilliant anyway.

 

His **second encounter** occurred after a year.  He tucked Sherlock into a blanket, spoon fed him soup and tea and biscuits, and played classical music constantly. He knew Sherlock had recovered after a week when he picked up his violin and played the second violin in Brahms second symphony and insisted that _that_ was how it should be done. John could hear the difference- he went out of tune four bars in, but he agreed and called Sherlock brilliant anyway, and he didn’t even blink when the detective retuned at the end of the piece.

 

His **third encounter** was not what he expected it to be. He tucked Greg into a blanket, spoon fed him soup and tea and biscuits, and he played The Jam, and The Clash, and The Kinks constantly. He knew Greg had recovered after four hours when the DI turned in his seat, buried his face in John’s shoulder, and sobbed over the loss of the most brilliant man either of them had ever known. He blamed himself and swallowed the guilt, and John played him Brahms second symphony, and they both agreed the second violin was out of tune.

 

His **fourth encounter** began with his alarm ringing too loudly, and imaginary footsteps on the stairs, and the voice he hadn’t heard in far too long _(Three years, four months, two weeks, six days. And just last night- but it couldn’t be real)_. He turned off the alarm, and tucked himself under the blanket. Nobody spoon fed him soup and tea and biscuits; but he knew he had recovered after twenty four hours when he started humming Brahms second symphony and was forced out of bed by the need to pee, and he whispered “Brilliant.” To the closed door in the hall and only made one cup of tea because _strong_ and _brave_ only mattered if you were strong and brave enough- and he was.

 

John’s **fifth encounter** occurred exactly one day after the fourth. He sat in his chair, and Sherlock Holmes tucked him in a blanket.  He made soup (Chicken noodle) - and it stuck to the bottom of the pan, but he spoon fed John the nice bits. He made tea and held the cup for John to drink- and there was too much sugar, but it was perfectly sweet. He dunked biscuits and held them out, and didn’t even ask why it was how John preferred them. He played Brahms second symphony, and he knew John had recovered when the soldier said his name, “ _Sherlock Holmes.”_ And Sherlock Holmes said “Brilliant.” And told him the story of being just exactly strong and brave enough to save his friends. Then lifted up the corner of the blanket and slid beneath it, wrapping himself around his blogger to whisper I-love-you’s and I’m-sorry’s until his blogger whispered back, “I know.”


End file.
